


When the Game Ends

by A_GleekOfHouseStark



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Everyone is Dead, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, House Baratheon, House Lannister, House Stark, House Targaryen, Humor, M/M, One Shot, One Shot Collection, What-If, dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-08-23 06:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8316571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_GleekOfHouseStark/pseuds/A_GleekOfHouseStark
Summary: "What happens when those who play the Game of Thrones stop playing?"This is a collection of One-Shots (some of them are funny, some are not) in which the characters are the many dead people up until the end of season four. They all end up in the Afterworld and they will interact with each other, although they have never met while they were alive.





	1. A Strange Trio

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!  
> This is the first story I post here, after many months of thoughts about it because English isn't my first language, but in the end I've decided to give it a shot.  
> Basically it's the translation of the same story that I wrote in Italian last summer.  
> I hope you'll like it!  
> -A_GleekOfHouseStark

**A strange trio**

 

“If that fake redhead doesn’t back off, I swear I will kill her! And I will kill him too for being so close to her.”

The wilding was screaming, bothering the rest of the people who definitely were not used to all that noise. Nothing had never upset them since they got to the strange place that had welcome them after their death.

At least until _she_ had come.

“For Gods’ sake, Ygritte!” Said Renly Baratheon “It’s crystal clear that you’ve just arrived. There’s nothing we can do or change from here, as I’ve already explained to you for about ten times.”

“I really would like to see your reaction if you watched your blond Tyrell screwing someone else.”

“Language please!”

“Did I hurt your feelings, One-Stand-King?” She asked laughing.

Renly didn’t answer.

He smirked and left her alone, keeping on screaming pointlessly.

 

Ygritte, the Kissed by Fire from the Free Folk, died at south of the Wall, so she was in this kind of Afterworld with all the lords and ladies deceased in Westeros. There were also peasants, but they were afraid of her and her not exactly friendly behavior. The only one who didn’t look at her with disgust or fear was Renly Baratheon, maybe because he pitied that young girl killed when she had all her life ahead to live, maybe because she was the only person in that place who didn’t despise him for his sexuality.

As soon as she got there, Ygritte had seen him watching over Loras, his knight who seemed to have forgotten too soon his one true love, or at least that’s how he called him when he was still alive.

“Is this a thing that you do in the South?” She had asked.

“What?”

“Men with men… and women with women I suppose.”

“It’s not a thing.  Anywhere.”

Renly had violently blushed.

“Come on! You weren’t looking at your feast-mate with those eyes…”

“It’s just… it’s not accepted. By anyone. They say it’s a sin.”

“Wow! What a great example of civilization! I don’t know if something like this has ever happened among the Free Folk, but I know for sure that it wouldn’t be a problem because what truly matters, what makes you powerful and strong, is how many people you can steal, not what they have between their legs.”

Renly had remained silent, shocked by the speech of that redhead covered in leather and fur.

“Excuse me, but who are you?”

“Ygritte, from the Free Folk.”

“Died at South of the Wall?”

“Really perceptive, lord?”

“Not a lord, but a king. King Renly of House Baratheon.”

“Just to know, how many kings are supposed to exist? I’ve met three of them since I got here. And I got here a couple of days ago.” Her voice was incredibly sarcastic.

“This guy is just one of the many kings we had in Westeros in the past few years, aren’t you, Renly?”

A very attractive man in an orange dress had interrupted their conversation.

“How long have you ruled?” He had asked “For a month in the Reach?”

Ygritte had begun to laugh.

“Okay, I could make fun of you because your reign was the shortest in the history of reigns, or because of your crown that looks like a Lannister princess’ diadem. Not because you prefer to sleep with boys.”

“How do you know House Lannister?” Renly had asked with surprise.

“They are rich and the noise of money can be heard even beyond the Wall.”

“I like this wilding!” Had said the man with the orange dress, pointing at her “Smart and clever, even though you’re not exactly a classy lady. Let me introduce myself: I’m Prince Oberyn Martell, from Dorne.”

“Where is Dorne?”

“The southernmost principality of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“A place where nothing grows. The suitable environment for a viper...” Had said Renly.

“Just because your great love is a Tyrell, it doesn’t mean you should have all these prejudices about Dornish Vipers. I could make you change your mind about them.”

Renly had blushed.

“Thin as the Wall.” Ygritte had exclaimed.

“I like you as well, wilding. If you’re interested, I don’t have any preference.”

Ygritte had got so close to Prince Oberyn that Renly had thought she would have kissed him, but she had limited to whisper in his hear.

“You’re handsome, but you’re not my type. Then, I have a bastard to watch over.”

“If you want, both of you, I’m available. We’re dead darling, there’s no one we can hurt now and we should let the livings go on with their lives. The less we care, the better.”

 

However, Ygritte, the kissed by fire from the Free Folk hadn’t learnt that lesson yet.


	2. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second one-shot of seven.  
> Ygritte is mad because she's only able to see what the livings are doing, deprived of the possibility of doing something to help them. However, she will find solace in two unexpected friends, talking about feelings and scars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> I'm sorry if it took so long but I was particularly busy during the past few months, but I promise I will update regularly after Christmas holidays.  
> However, I hope you'll like this new chapter.  
> xx  
> -A_GleekOfHouseStark

**Scars**

The place that had welcome them after their death, the place in which the ceiling, the floor and the walls were mixed together in an uniform white, the place that we will call Afterlife for short, had a strange rule: if you had been killed (so in 90% of cases), there was a scar on your body, on the exact point where you had been mortally wounded.

Ned Stark, for example, had one on his neck, Robb had two of them, one between his ribs and the other on the neck as well (actually no one knew why he had it, since it hadn’t been fatal), whereas Ygritte’s scar was on her chest.

However, there were people who had trouble with this system of attribution: where would have Joffrey been marked, as he had been poisoned? And what about Oberyn, who surely couldn’t have all his skull cicatrized after his stupid death?

Eventually, someone above had established that Cersei’s son would have had purple lips and a pale face, while Oberyn had to bring with him a poster saying “I got my head blown up like an orange”.

His complains were vain, even when he had pointed out that he couldn’t have wandered forever with that stupid poster. The answer, anyway, was brief and concise: “If you didn’t want the stupid poster, you shouldn’t have died so stupidly.”

How nice they were, those in charge.

This wasn’t the only rule, because for example you already know that the Wildings who died South of the Wall ended up with all the deceased Westerosi.

On the other hand, there were also privileges, such as being able to see what your alive dearest were doing.

Or at least it was sometimes a privilege.

Sometimes it was a proper torture.

For Ygritte it was always a proper torture.

She wasn’t used to seeing without doing anything, which made her constantly angry. In fact, the last time she decided to look down she saw her king burnt by the evil Red Witch, just because he wanted to reach the North to save his people from the White Walkers.

It was so unfair.

She got mad and screamed so loud that Talisa Stark, the wife of one of the many dead kings (it turned out that a consequence of the crown was a violent death), reached her to politely ask her to stop shouting.

Ygritte told her to screw herself and left.

Talisa didn’t answer, instead she followed her.

“Ygritte, wait!”

“No, leave me alone!”

“Come on! I just want to talk.”

“You’re so disgustingly kind.”

“Are you alright?” She asked her.

Silence.

“I know that you don’t want to be here, especially because Jon is still alive.”

“How do you know him?”

“We are used to watched over him, so we saw you as well. He’s my husband’s half-brother.”

“Well, someone could have told me that this family brings bad luck. I would have stayed away from him...”

Talisa smiled, then she took off her dress to show her scars, as if she wanted to agree with her.

“Wow. Why did they persist so much?” Asked Ygritte.

“You know, betrayals, plots and things like that. They wanted to be sure to kill me and my baby.”

Silence, again.

“Have you already met his family?” Talisa asked

Ygritte’s face became as red as her hair when she remembered her first meeting with the Starks. When she had seen them for the first time, they had been talking to each other and watching over their kids wandering across Westeros.

Ygritte had looked at those coordinated scars on their necks.

_People with a good head on their shoulders…_

But unfortunately she hadn’t only thought this.

She hadn't realised that she had said it aloud enough for them to hear.

Catelyn Stark had stared at her with such a rage in her eyes that she had thought she could have incenerate her.

Ygritte had never spoken again to the Starks since that episode.

“Yes, and it was pretty embarrassing.” Answered the wilding.

“I agree!” Said a male voice.

It was Renly.

“So, do you hide from the others to stay calm?” He ironically demanded, getting closer to the two girls.

“It’s better this way for you, Baratheon. Otherwise I will ruin your pretty face with my fists.”

“Don’t you think she’s a little bit surly, Talisa?”

“Don’t you think he’s a little bit annoying, Talisa?”

Robb Stark’s wife began to laugh.

“I think I should leave. I don’t want to be the witness of a fight.” She smiled.

She left Ygritte and Renly, the worst couple ever, alone.

“Will you tell me why the first meeting with the Starks was so embarrassing?”

“I said… I said that they’re people with a good head on their shoulders.”

“No way!”

“I know...”

Renly burst into a noisy laughter, until Ygritte shut him up.

“Can you stop, One-Stand-King?” Then she asked “Where is yours?”

“My what?”

“The scar.”

"Why has this scar thing come up to your mind?"

"Talisa showed me hers. Come on, where is it?"

Renly pointed his chest and then his back.

“I was stabbed. That Red Witch you hate so much gave birth to a Shadow-Baby-Demon who murdered me. Oh, how can I forget to tell you that my brother agreed with that! I mean, according to him, I was just another traitor.”

“I don't believe you"

"Well, you should."

"You kill each other! You kill your brothers, your friends… What’s wrong with you?”

“Nobody’s perfect my dear." He exhaled, then he asked "What about you, where is yours?”

Ygritte started taking off her clothes, while Renly was awkwardly blushing.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it? I mean, you’re not interested in this kind of goods.”

“Go… Go on.” He answered.

Ygritte was naked and she was showing a big irregular scar on her breastbone.

“A Crow put an arrow in my chest. No demons or assassin brothers.”

She started putting her clothes on again.

“You know, maybe it's good... being dead.” She said.

“How can it be?”

“I’m afraid that if that damned arrow hadn’t hit me, I would have killed Jon. I still remember how angry I was in that moment. I wouldn’t have spared him, but then I would have lived with a sense of guilt for the rest of my life. So yes, it was a good thing because I will never know. Has it ever happened to you? Has your blond Tyrell ever done something to make you want to kill him?”

Renly didn’t answer at first.

He could only think about how little time they had spent together before he died.

“No, he hasn’t. We had so little time.”

“I think that when you’re in love, time never seems enough.”

Silence again.


	3. The Wolf and The Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry as usual for the delay, I'm so busy but I'll try to update more regularly from now on. I Hope you'll enjoy this chapter about Rhaegar and Lyanna!  
> xoxo  
> -A_GleekOfHouseStark

The Wolf and the Dragon

The Afterlife had another characteristic: it was not the final destination.  
Dead people waited there for an undetermined amount of time, until they ended up in another mysterious place and of course no one knew about it.  
It was a pure coincidence that Rhaegar and Lyanna, who got killed a long time ago, were still there.  
Imagine how happy Robert Baratheon was when he saw again his betrothed, as beautiful as he remembered.  
Now imagine how shocked he was when he found out that she had not exactly been kidnapped.   
He spotted them while they were trying to hide from the others, since Rhaegar’s wife was in the Afterlife as well. They were laughing and smiling at each other, thus it didn’t seem that the Young Dragon had abducted her fifteen years before and caused the end of an era, of a regime of Fire and Blood.

However, for Lyanna Stark death wasn’t sufficient to crown her dream with Rhaegar, because his wife, Elia Martell, who had forgiven him, was with them.  
“Neither death will let us live our love.” Had said the Targaryen prince in one of the poems that had made him so famous.  
What a poet, the Young Dragon.  
The two lovers felt forced to hide but actually everyone knew their little secret. Lyanna sometimes screamed at him because of that situation and even though there were still a few romantic moments between them, they spent a lot of time arguing.  
Once, Lyanna was alone, waiting for their brothers, when Rhaegar showed up with the rest of the royal family.  
“Good morning, princess Lyanna.” He exclaimed followed by his children and his wife. She had a feeble voice and Lyanna thought that she was nothing of what the Martell motto said.  
However, she must have had an incredible strength, as she had kept calm even when the whole realm saw her husband cheating on her.  
“Good morning.” Replied Lyanna, while she was trying not to show how bad she felt, meeting the man she loved with his lovely family.  
“Are you fine? You seem sad.”  
“Don’t worry, there are not princesses to be saved here. I know that you like it, though.”  
“If you want to talk, I’ll be here. Sometimes a friend is all you need.”  
“Thank you, probably a friend is all I need.”  
Lyanna ran towards her brothers, leaving the Targaryen’s family.   
Elia Martell was still looking down with her big dark eyes; she didn’t even gazed at Lyanna while she was talking to her husband. In fact, despite the period of rage, a rage she didn’t believe herself capable of, was over, there was a cicatrized scar that sometimes still bothered her, so she forced herself to look down to avoid doing something she could have regretted.  
She had a different kind of strength, a strength she didn’t express with threats or violence.  
A strength that Rhaegar had never been able to appreciate.

In the end, Lyanna and the Young Dragon met, neither as friends, nor to talk, hidden in one of “their” places of the Afterlife.  
“I love you.” He said, kissing her neck.  
How convincing he was! How many times Lyanna had believed him! Many enough to think that everything wasn’t just a beautiful dream.  
“Not enough, though.” She answered.  
“What did you say?” Rhaegar backed off “I’ve started a war because of you!”  
“You know, you need to be generous to love and you’re not because if you were, you wouldn’t hurt at the same time two women you say you’re in love with.”  
“It’s always the same story Lyanna! I’ve already told you that I can’t leav…”  
“Maybe this excuse would have made sense when we were alive, not even then honestly, but now it’s all a matter of appearance! The appearance of the perfect prince, husband and father but it’s too late because people know! Even if they still believed in the story of “kidnapping and rape”, you’re not the person devoted to his duty and faithful to his family you want them to think you are, because a man like this doesn’t kidnap and rape the first girl he found attractive. They pretend to believe you! Let me tell you something: if you had thought with your brain instead of something else, maybe we would be still alive! Maybe I wouldn’t have bled to death on that bed!”  
“Lyanna…”  
“No, let me finish. Let’s be honest: you made me feel for the first time in my life a real princess, like those living in the South and not just a lady who fights her brothers for fun. I was on cloud nine with you, but I’ve just realized that you were doing everything for yourself, because if you had ever loved me, you wouldn’t have asked me to elope. And I’m deeply sorry because, on the contrary, I love you. I really do. I risked everything for you, I accepted to disgrace my name and my house, I gave birth to your child and I died because of it. Nevertheless, I would do it all over again just to feel what I felt the first time I was with you. Maybe not the part where I bleed out though…”  
She was so right.  
She got perfectly the point.  
“So what do we do? We turn into strangers?”  
“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t think I will be able to treat you as a friend. Maybe we should stay apart for a while.”  
“I get it.” He said sadly “We made a pretty big mess, didn’t we?”  
“Yeah…”  
Lyanna Stark got away from the only person she had ever loved in her brief and bright life. She turned away without saying a word, without spilling a tear because she was a wolf and wolves don’t cry.  
And wolves aren’t meant to be with dragons.


	4. Primadonna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb Stark hasn't got used to the Afterlife yet and no one seems to be able to help him accept this new situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised you to update more regularly, so here I am! The following two chapters will be about Robb Stark, who definitely deserved better.  
> Hope you'll enjoy it.  
> xx  
> -A_GleekOfHouseStark

**Primadonna**

It had just been three months since the massacre at the Twin Towers, but Robb Stark hadn’t got used to that place yet.

He was surrounded by the people he loved, yet the idea of powerlessness, of being cut off from the game of thrones because that night he'd been too stupid to realize what was going on, had turned into a blind rage that was killing him a second time.

It wasn’t easy at all for him to accept the situation, so he often got angry and screamed at the others, no matter if they were dead or alive, in order not to feel the madness that was slowly murdering him. He was oversensitive, as well: everyone felt uncomfortable talking to him, even Talisa and his parents, since he only opened his mouth to scold the livings for their actions.

He shouted at Jon because he was growing too attached to that wilding girl, who would have led him to ruin in the same way it had happened to him.

He shouted at Sansa and Arya because they kept trusting bad people.

He shouted at Theon, whom he still hated because of his betrayal.

“Take it out on them and you won’t feel guilty” seemed to be Robb's new motto.

However, not _feeling_ guilty does not equal not _being_ guilty and the Young Wolf soon realized that difference.

It doesn’t matter what he did or how he behaved, a sense of guilt started flowing into his chest, insidious and arrogant as a Primadonna demanding to be listened to.

Thus, rage turned into silence.

It was as if the Primadonna had decided to feed on his voice, closing him in a sort of muteness that the others were rarely able to unfold.

Robb Stark was no longer angry; on the other hand, he felt as the only one to blame for the difficulties the livings were dealing with, especially his siblings, too young and already too lonely.

After his second death, a death by rage, guilt was killing him for the third time.

 

For a short period, it seemed that nothing could have relieved the former King in the North; then his father intervened.

Ned Stark turned out to be the only person actually capable of helping his son, as even his mother, still poisoned by revenge seeds, appeared not able.

“Son.” Began Ned “Talk to me. Please.”

“I don’t even know where to start, father.”

“Well, start telling me how you feel right now.”

“I cannot fix what I’ve done, I cannot do what I wish I’d done, not anymore. I’m powerless right now.”

“I know how you feel because I felt the same for so long. I blamed myself because of Arya and Sansa’s terrible fate, because I had left an excessive power on your young shoulders, because I abandoned your mother when she needed me the most, not to mention Bran and Rickon. They’re so young and yet they’ve already known so many forms of human cruelty…”

“How did you get rid of it?” Asked Robb.

“Forgiveness, Robb. Start forgiving yourself! You’re young and you tried to do your best, even though it didn’t go well. You have to realize that everything that happened last year is not your fault.”

Then whose fault is it?” Blew up Robb.

“Nobody’s. Moreover, you have to remember to wear somebody else’s shoes, as people doesn’t do wrong just because they can. Everyone has reasons and we ought to know them, even if we don’t agree.”

Ned Stark went away, leaving his son to think about his words. The boy stayed silent and looked down at livings.

He barely held his tears.

 

After the chat with his father, Robb Stark got better, feeling almost completely free from guilt. Eventually, Ned was right: the only ways to kill the Primadonna were understanding and forgiveness.

In fact, he was trying to understand why Theon had betrayed him, why Jon had fallen in love with Ygritte, why Arya and Sansa trusted those people. He learnt how to live with them making mistakes without the possibility to help them fix afterwards.

He learnt that everyone, even him, makes mistakes and that they have to live with them.

Thus, he would be able to continue his existence without going mad.


	5. The Cruelty of the Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joffrey Baratheon has just arrived and the Afterlife is more animated than ever. The former king has decided to torture Robb Stark as he was his personal, designated victim, but the most improbable couple will teach him how to shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> Hope you'll enjoy this chapter about Joffrey!  
> I was thinking about keeping on writing few more short stories as I have other ideas.  
> xoxo  
> -A_GleekOfHouseStark

**The Cruelty of the Lion**

Since Joffrey Baratheon came to the Afterlife, the existence there had suddenly become more animated and, under a certain point of view, even funnier.

Or at least that’s what Renly and Ygritte thought, especially when she realized what the former king was like.

That blond, whimsical, little boy turned out to be an amazing target, thus she stopped teasing Renly to help their community, as they were the only ones able, with Oberyn and his father Robert, to shut Joffrey up.

In fact, it seemed that his ultimate goal was turning the Afterlife into the Seven Hells by using his bully manners and his favorite designated victim was Robb Stark, who could barely hold back from punching that pale, royal face.

“Hey, Half-Wolf!” Joffrey called him, showing a pleased smirk “You don’t mind if I call you Half-Wolf, do you? I know that you grew so _attached_ to your beast. However, how are your siblings? I’ve heard that they’ve been through a lot lately, especially Sansa. Well, it’s not surprising, she’s so stupid that she cannot do the right thing not even by mistake. I wonder when she’ll come here… ”

Robb suddenly saw red; the vein on his neck was pulsing and his eyes were oozing hate.

There was no one there to stop him, so he rushed onto Joffrey and took him by the collar of his dress.

“Name my sister once again and I swear you will have a big problem with me. Am I making myself clear?”

It wasn’t a vain threat, Robb really mean it and his expression proved it.

“What are you going to do? Kill me? Do I really have to remind you where we are?” Joffrey laughed “Back off, Stark, because we both know that the lion will always beat the wolf. Sansa knows it already.”

Robb didn’t leave his neck.

“You should wash your mouth before you could even say her name, you bastard.”

“Bastard? I think you’re mistaking me for your crow step-brother.”

Renly and Ygritte had heard enough of that conversation to decide to help the Young Wolf get rid of the former king in a less violent and more ironic way.

“Listen to me, Joffrey” Said Renly “After this awful performance you can convince me of everything, except that we’re relatives.”

“You and this little bully are relatives?” Asked Ygritte, faking to be astonished “I’m not surprised that you’ve never mentioned it. I would be ashamed of sharing my blood with this guy.”

Joffrey got suddenly silent.

Robb Stark played his game, whereas that strange couple had a smooth irony for him.

They were completely on another level.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like this! I am your king and you’re a nobody.” Joffrey tried to take advantage of his no longer existent authority.

“Since you’re not my king and you’re also dead, like everyone else here, let me tell you a few things.” Said Ygritte “First of all, stay away from Robb or I’ll put one of these into your chest.” She pointed at her arrows “It can’t kill you, but I assure you that it still hurts. Second, stop being so annoying because it’s not fun and you’re not exactly in the situation where you can be a bully. Have you seen your pale face recently? Not to mention how you got killed… Yes, I’ve been told how you died, that you invited at your wedding people that had written on their foreheads ‘For the Seven Gods, I really want to murder him’. It was pretty stupid of you, not getting checked your food, but I guess this is a King’s harsh life…”

Ygritte took a crooked bow.

The two other boys were laughing.

Joffrey tried to reply to her offense, but she interrupted him one again.

“Oh, I almost forgot: do not humiliate my friend here because it’s my prerogative, isn’t it, Renly?”

“I accept to be mocked only by people with a brain, but I doubt he doesn’t even know what a brain is…” Answered the young Baratheon.

Joffrey was blushing, like a punished child who keeps denying his evident fault.

“If you don’t mind” Continued Ygritte “I would like to entertain a conversation with these two pleasant young men, so I beg you to go bothering someone else with your nuisance. Maybe you will find somebody actually willing to listen to your Majesty’s whims.”

“Listen to me, you wilding whore…”

Ygritte interrupted him again.

“Wow! You must have grown up without the faintest knowledge of the female universe if you call whore every strong woman you meet.”

Renly acted as he was shocked and Joffrey felt so annihilated by the girl’s words that he decided to go back to his favorite prey.

“You also need someone to fight for you, Young Wolf? How low you’ve fallen.”

“Not as low as you, Joffrey. Now go away.” Renly pushed him away and when he was far enough, Robb allowed himself to thank them.

“Thank… Thank you. For having my back.”

“My pleasure.” Answered Renly with a formal tone.

He wasn’t used to talking to the Young Wolf and, since he was a noblemen as well, he felt like he needed that kind of formality.

Ygritte, on the other hand, didn’t have that problem.

“Always available. Even though I would pay to see you punching him.”

“Ygritte!” Exclaimed Renly.

“What?”

“You’re talking to a member of a noble house! To a king!”

“If I had to control my language every time I speak to a member of a noble house, I would seem very stupid. Or I would shut up otherwise.”

“You’re not capable of shutting up…”

“Problem solved. You can’t get rid of me, One Stand King.”

Robb Stark smiled.

“Thank you again.” He said.

Then he turned away and left.


	6. The Dragon Awakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One shot about Vyseris Targaryen, his existance in the Afterlife of Essos and his hateful feelings for Daenerys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I'm so sorry for being late. Again.  
> I had promised to update regularly but school is killing me, so I don't have much time to translate the missing chapters from Italian into English.  
> However, I'hope you'll like this chapter!  
> xoxo  
> A_GleekOfHouseStark

**The Dragon Awakes**

  


Somewhere, in an area separated from the rest of the Afterlife, there were the dead people of Essos, who, in death as they had been in life, stayed apart from the Westerosi.

There was such a big variety of characters: exiled knights and Dothraki, Red Priests and inhabitants of the Free Cities, slaves and slavers from Astapor, Yunkai and Meereen. Among them, lived one of the last members of the Targaryen family: Vyseris, Aerys’ son.

The boy had been ceaselessly wandering around since he had arrived there and people looked at him with disgust, or fear, because of the burns on his face due to the boiling gold he was crowned with. He also tended to shout and gesticulate too much, which did not help the others appreciate him.

As he didn’t bound with anyone in the Afterlife, despite his long staying, his favorite hobby was spying his sister to insult her for getting him killed or, in other cases, for being, in his opinion, too stupid.

He was watching the conquest of Astapor as I were a theatric play, when suddenly he was blinded by an incredible rage.

He started pouring out his jealousy, screaming:

“This is all your fault!” He said to her sister, who clearly couldn’t listen to him. “I should have been the conqueror. I should have had those amazing beast under my control! I am the Blood of the Dragon and you would be nothing without me!”

“Hey blondie, chill out!” Said a Tyroshi woman “Even if you had had the blood of the dragon, now it’s as cold as ours. And leave that poor girl alone.”

“How dare you talk to the rightful king to the Iron Throne in this way!”

 “Listen, Vyseris…” Said another man, a red priest “I get that you had your rights and stuff, but now you’re dead. We all are. And there are no thrones to sit on here.”

However, Vyseris Targaryen did not care.

 

“Look at her! Look at this slut who burns down entire cities because she cannot keep what she conquers. See how they worship her, how they call her Mhysa, Queen, but she would be nothing if she were alone. I made her, everything has started with me! And you know what I got in return? A liquefied golden crown! So you may be right to say that I am dead and my frustration is not worth it, but I will never stop being mad at her, even though she’s the blood of my blood. ”

The entire audience didn’t say a word after the Dragon’s speech.

Vyseris was so good to depict himself as a victim.

In fact, he had not mentioned how he made Daenerys the conqueror she was.

He had sold her to that savage, but also threatened to take her against her will, just because he was a dragon and dragons don’t ask for permission.

He got her naked, uncovering her body and insecurities.

He forged her with fire and blood.

But he didn’t mention any of this, because he had realized how many justifications his sister had for her revenge.

He couldn’t bear the atrocious silence after his speech

The Begging King started to scream.

 

Vyseris Targaryen woke up, submersed in an infinite and blinding whiteness.

It took a while for him to focus on the person standing in front of him.

It was the Savage.

Then he also noticed the mass of people around them.

“What did you do to me?” He shouted “I am the Blood of the Dragon!”

Khal Drogo said something in his language in a threatening tone. Vyseris didn’t understand, but a little slave soon translated.

“He said that you must not speak about his wife in that way anymore.”

“In what way?” He asked, as he couldn’t distinguish what he had imagined from what he had actually said.

“The last thing” Interrupted a man from Braavos “was, and I’m quoting, ‘You will be nothing without me’.”

It seemed that a he had imagined an entire part of his speech, probably because of the fight with Khal Drogo.

Well, actually it wasn’t a fight.

Drogo had beaten up Vyseris until he had fallen on the ground and not woken up for several minutes.

The savage added something else, and the girl translated tenderly:

“You should go, my lord.”

The blood of the dragon couldn’t defeat the Khal’s strength.

He didn’t in life, how was he supposed to do it in death?

 


	7. The Speech

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert Baratheon has decided to get revenge for all the mockery reserved to him. To do so, he will reveal the secrets that were hidden under the burden of the Rebellion and of what happened afterwards.

**The Speech**

“I’ve called you upon to explain a few things.”

That’s what Robert Baratheon said to the crowd.

The nobles were listening to him because they wanted to know what had been hidden from them since the Rebellion, whereas the common people were interested in finding out everything about that world so distant from their own.

However, as someone had previously stated, everyone is equal in front of death.

The first Baratheon king had decided to entertain that insane speech when he saw Tywin Lannister, his father in law and probably the last person he had expected to meet in the Afterworld, so he had thought it was time to taste satisfaction, by revealing all the secrets that had caused trouble during the last fifteen years.

How sweet would have been smiling at Tywin after destroying his children’s reputation.

Robert Baratheon had nothing to lose: he had been mocked for years because of his life after the conquest of the Iron Throne.

That speech would have been his revenge.

“You should know that I’m a very avenging man, I’ve haunted down the House Targaryen even after my coronation because I wanted all of them to be dead, thus some of you may be offended by my words. I just want to remind you that I _am going to_ be offensive. And also to start a little drama in this terribly boring place.”

He smirked at Tywin and kept on talking.

“Let’s start from the beginning, from 282 A.C: a crazy king was sitting on the throne and his heir was a Young Dragon who basically risked extinguishing his bloodline just to satisfy his luxury. I am honest, Rhaegar, if you hadn’t kidnapped Lyanna, maybe we would be still alive in our castles! Maybe you would have married Cersei! How fun it would have been… But you know, my dear guests, we should not talk about an abduction, since our Northern Princess, our Blue Rose, agreed to run away with the beautiful poet in a shining armor, didn’t you, Lyanna?”

Everyone involved in the Rebellion had suspected it before, but no one dared saying it aloud.

The crowd started staring at the girl, who looked angrier and angrier, but Robert continued his speech.

“Do you think this is the end of the story? Of course it’s not, because there’s also a secret child! Who knows, perhaps in 100 years a bard will write a ballad about you, your star-crossed love and your little boy. A song of Ice and Fire!”

The audience wanted him to reveal the child’s identity, apart from those who already knew the secret.

“The boy magically turned into a bastard to save him from my rage against the House Targaryen. Today, this boy is the Lord Commander of the Night Watchers. Jon Snow.”

 

Catelyn Stark stared at his husband. She couldn’t understand why Ned didn’t mention that Jon was his nephew, allowing her to hate that child who had no guilt.

Oberyn Martell burst into a laughter and clapped the Young Dragon.

Elia Martell was fiercely looking at his husband. She didn’t bow, not even once.

Robb Stark suddenly became stiff.

But probably the best reaction was Ygritte’s, who claimed, while everyone was silent, to have had sex with the son of a king.

“His father _could have been_ king, honey. But you wouldn’t have become a princess anyhow.” Answered Renly.

“Nothing could make me a princess and you know it, One - Stand King.” Replied Ygritte, smiling at him.

“Excuse me, my dear, who are you?” Asked Robert.

“I’m Ygritte, from the Free Folks.” She said proudly “And this is the funniest thing I’ve ever been to. Honestly, it could be a… a… What’s their name again, Renly?”

“You mean a play?” Replied the Young Baratheon.

“Exactly! Please, go on. I want to know how it ends.” She said to Robert.

“Of course, my dear. As you all know there was a war and the war was won thanks to the courage of the knights and lords who fought by my side. Only one of them was missing: Tywin Lannister. Yes, while his son was forced to stay with the Mad King, waiting for the best moment to slice his throat, the Lion stayed safe in Casterly Rock, choosing whether following my rebellion would be fruitful or not. We despise Walder Frey for what he did, but why don’t we talk about Tywin Lannister, who behaved in the same way? Just because he was the Queen’s father, the heir’s grandfather and he used to lend his money to the entire kingdom. Speaking of, the Lannisters are particularly keen on their family, as I think you all know that my wife has been sleeping with his brother for ages. Jaime, of course. Her standards are quite high…”

“Can you tell us something that we don’t know?” Asked Oberyn from the audience, laughing aloud.

“I felt I had to give you an accurate chronicle of what occurred. After the coronation, it seemed that all my problems were gone and all I had to do was ruling the Seven Kingdom and that’s what happened for fifteen years, then Petyr Baelish showed up. He was an old acquaintance of Lady Stark from her childhood, but in the meantime, he had turned from a loser into a powerful, frustrated man, who wanted revenge so bad. He seduced Lady Stark’s crazy sister, Jon Arryn’s wife, who’s not here because he’s better than all of us put together. Basically, Lysa Arryn is convinced by Baelish to poison her husband, he dies and I call Ned to take his place. Then I die because of my bitchy wife” Robert turned to Joffrey, murmuring a fake apology “And Ned follows me…”

“How do you know that this was all Baelish’s fault?”

“You can learn a lot from here. Even that my own wife plotted to kill me.” Replied the former king “Oh, eventually another war started. But I think you know this story pretty well…”


	8. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being stabbed by the Watchers, Jon Snow ends ep in the Afterworld, but everybody knows that his presence there is wrong.  
> Everybody except for Jon himself, who doesn't know yet that he's meant to do great things.

**Blood**

Jon Snow opened his eyes, but all he could see was white.

A huge, uniform whiteness.

He looked around for a while, then he realized he was alone and no one would come to help him stop the bleeding that was oozing from his chest. He was able neither to think nor to talk, but a sudden instinct forced him to scream as if it was a matter of survival, even though it didn’t make any sense, because he was dead.

 _He was convinced_ to be dead.

Jon asked for help and, in the meantime, he touched his bleeding wounds.

Weren’t you supposed to stop bleeding when you are dead? And if that was some sort of Afterworld, why was he alone? So many people he had known should have been there…

 

Suddenly, a figure entered his visual.

It was blurred, but Jon blamed the terrible pain for the bad eyesight.

“Can you help me, please?” He asked slowly.

“There is no way I could help you, Jon Snow.” The person answered as if he knew him.

The boy started recognizing her.

It was definitely a woman.

Tall, red hair, dressed in leather and fur.

Ygritte.

“Ygritte, I’m begging you, help me stop the bleeding, otherwise I will die.”

He didn’t realize how insane it sounded.

He was already dead.

“For Gods’ sake, I could have fallen in love with so many people, yet I ended up with the Chosen One. Everyone arrives here with their scars, but here you are, still bleeding…”

She had stayed the same and only the Gods knew how much he had missed her.

“I don’t know, Ygritte. I don’t know why I am the _Chosen One._ ” He admitted, still laying on the ground.

“You know nothing, Jon Snow.” She said, getting closer to him. “You may have realized that you don’t belong here. Not yet.”

“I was stabbed. I’m supposed to be dead.”

_Dead like you._

“I saw them. I’ve never liked the black crows, especially the traitors, yet I would have done everything in power to stop them from hurting you.”

“No matter what I’ve done to you?”

“No matter what, Jon Snow.”

Ygritte had his head in her arms, a scene similar to their last meeting during the battle to protect the Wall, but this time the roles had changed.

Jon looked at her, begging.

“If I don’t belong here, how will I get out? How will I come back to life?”

“It’s up to you.”

Ygritte remained silent, then she got up to leave him.

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t stay any longer.”

“Please, don’t.”

“You have no idea how much I begged to be able to see you right now. The truth is that I hated you, but I would have paid all the Lannisters’ gold just to meet you once again.”

“Who did you beg at? The Gods? And why are we alone here?”

“You ask too many questions.” She smiled at him “But you will receive the answers when you’ll be ready. When you’ll come back to life, you will lose very memory of this place. It will be like you haven’t seen anything at all.”

“Don’t leave me, please.”

“There are other people who want to see you. You’re not alone.”

Ygritte turned and walked away.

“Wait!” He shouted, paying the effort with a terrible physical pain “Forgive me, Ygritte. Forgive me for what I did to you. I didn’t mean it to end this way, I swear. I’ve loved you, Ygritte. I still love you!”

He didn’t know whether she had heard him or not, but he felt his heart lighter thanks to this unexpected opportunity to confess his feelings.

 

After Ygritte had left him, Jon soon recognized the other guest: it was his half-brother, Robb Stark.

“How is it even possible that you’re still bleeding? Everyone here has just scars, perpetual memory of the pain we have suffered.” He said tragically, but Jon could see him smiling.

“I would like to know as well why I’m different from you, Robb…”

“I’ve always thought that you were special, but not so special to defy death.”

“As far as I’m concerned, I don’t think I’m special, dear brother.”

“It’s for what _you will_ do.”

“Can you foresee the future from here?”

“Unfortunately we can’t, but we can watch over you and it seems to me that you’re meant to do great things.”

Robb tended to underline the difference between himself and Jon.

The difference between dead and alive.

“How do I come back?” Asked his brother.

“It’s up to you.”

“That’s exactly what Ygritte has said.”

“I’m glad she met you. She was so impatient to see you again.” Answered Robb, changing the subject.

“I’m glad, as well. I haven’t forgiven myself yet for what I did to her.”

“I know what you did, but I also know that you couldn’t have behaved differently. It is not your fault, but Love’s, who put us on paths we had never thought to walk. ”

“You’ve always been the wisest one.”

“None of us is wise, otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”

They both laughed and Jon realized that it was the first moment they truly shared as brothers.

“I’m so sorry. It wasn’t meant to end like this.”

“It’s not over for you.” Replied Robb “You will get out from here. You will live again.”

“Why? Who made this decision? And how do you know that?”

“You’re still bleeding.” Robb pointed at Jon’s chest “And there’s smoke coming from your wounds. There are people who believe in a hero and, most of all, they believe _you_ are the hero, so you have to get up and fight back…”

It seemed to Jon that Robb’s speech was about to continue, but suddenly his brother was forced to get up and leave him to let two other figures come closer to him. He recognized his father, but he had never seen the woman before, yet he had to admit that he looked like her. Probably she was his aunt Lyanna, but he couldn’t be sure.

How many things he didn’t know!

Lyanna Stark had begged every God just to get the chance to see her child for a little while.

“Father!” Jon tried to stand up but he wasn’t able because of the pain.

The wounds hurt like a hundred swords put in his chest.

“Lay down, son.” Replied Ned, bowing next to him. He introduced the woman, who was clearly emotional “She’s my sister, Lyanna.”

“I’m so sorry you have to meet me in this condition for the first time.” Said the boy.

Lyanna wanted to tell the truth to her son, but what was the purpose? He would forget everything once back to life, as he wasn’t allowed to remember, so his mind would be completely blank.

She knew because they had told her so.

“Son, do you know why you’re here?” Asked Ned.

“I was stabbed, father. I should be dead, like all of you. Scars instead of blood.”

“You were given a second chance, because you will save our family and the whole realm from the threatening winter. I can’t say who chose you, but you’re different, Jon.”

“Why me? Why a bastard and not a king?”

Ned gazed at Lyanna and lied.

Ned knew that Jon was the son of Ice and Fire, as well as he knew that he wasn’t ready for the truth.

“There’s no explanation, but you have to accept this task, even though you didn’t ask for it. Will you do it?”

Jon felt a brand new courage flowing through his veins, giving him strength and power.

“I will, father.”

 

Jon Snow closed his eyes and tried to focus on a whatsoever form of signal to find out if he was ready to come back.

He listened to a voice.

It was a woman.

She was praying.

Maybe it was the sign he was looking for.


	9. Tears

**Tears**

If anyone had ever announced that Stannis Baratheon was about to join them in the Afterworld, only few people would have believed it, because his defeat was so fast that no one expected it: within few days, he had passed from being a victim of “twenty good Bolton men”, who had left him without supplies, to executioner of his own daughter.

Brienne of Tarth had just inflicted him the _coup de grace._

It felt like everything happened at the same time and the dead people, who had been watching over him, had neither a moment to process the events.

 

When the suitor to the Iron Throne woke up, he was particularly confused by that uniformly white place.

He didn’t think afterlife would be like that.

Stannis noticed some acquainted faces in the crowd, which really didn’t conform to his idea of afterlife: people who had fought alongside with him throughout years or just had crossed his path such as the wilding redhead, Jon Snow’s lover, whom he remembered from the Battle of the Wall.

Thus, he started looking for his own family.

His brothers, his wife, but most of all, his daughter, his only heir, who had been sacrificed in the worst act of cowardice of his entire life.

After that event, Stannis had never been the same again.

He felt to have burnt with her also his better part, made of love, kindness and pure courage.

How much he had hated himself!

_How much he still hated himself._

“Shireen!” He shouted “Shireen, where are you?”

People in the crowd started moving to let him pass, but they couldn’t help showing him their disdain. Stannis tried ignoring them, but their judging glances seemed to have a physical dimension. They heavily occupied all the space between him and them.

“Latest news!” Shouted someone in the crowd. Stannis turned and recognized the wilding redhead. “We know what you did, so, guess what, nobody likes you.”

“We all know.” Stated a boy with a big scar on his chest.

“You can’t hate me more than I hate myself.” Thought Stannis, but he didn’t say it. He just asked where he could find his daughter, vaguely begging.

“I think you shouldn’t.” Said a distant voice, who turned out to be his brother Renly. “You bloody bastard.”

“Renly…”

Stannis was crossed by a series of emotions he couldn’t explain.

“You burnt her! You burnt your daughter! Can you imagine how disgusting you are?” The young Baratheon kept on shouting at him “We’ve founded a club here; it’s called ‘Those who hate Stannis Baratheon.’ There are three subscribers: me, your wife and your daughter.”

 “I just want to ask her for forgiveness, even though I know she won’t.”

“That’s exactly the problem: you engendered such a kind, good creature that she would be actually able to forgive you. Shireen is so much better than you that I really wonder how you can be her father.”

“Please Renly, I’m begging you with all my brotherly love: let me see her.”

“After you got me killed, you are not allowed to call upon our _brotherly love_.”

“I swear that I had no idea of what Melisandre was going to do.”

“Am I supposed to believe to the story in which you are subjected to a red priestess when I know that you have never changed your opinion in your entire life, no matter how wrong it was?”

“Renly, let him go.” Robert Baratheon interrupted him and the family picture was finally complete. “You don’t get to decide whether Stannis will meet Shireen or not.”

The afterlife had made the former king extremely wise and moderate, according to a strange retaliation, which no one understood.

“He burnt her at stake! Because of superstition! There’s no way I will allow him to see her. No way, Robert.” Stated firmly Renly.

“You don’t have this right, so the girl will decide if she wants to meet him, whether you like it or not.” Answered Robert.

Then, Renly left the conversation, furious and shocked.

“Thank you, Robert.” Exclaimed Stannis.

“It’s always been difficult to understand you, brother. Since our childhood you’ve always been the most serious, the most rigid. I can’t remember a single time in which we played all together without ending up fighting.

“You and Renly preferred each other’s’ company…”

“Or maybe you considered us too fool for you. Anyway, that’s not the point: at least I thought to know you a little, I would have never stopped believing in your honesty and fairness, but I was contradicted. You burnt her. Can you imagine how ashamed I was when I saw my own brother sacrificing her daughter in the name of a pagan god?”

Sadness was evident in Stannis’ eyes.

It was the first time, according to Robert.

“I just want to see her. I want apologize, tell her that she deserved something better than me and the ugly world in which she grew up. I want to tell her that there is nothing more important than her.”

“There must have been, as you decided to put her at stake…” answered Robert “She’s with my daughter. She’s fine. Go.”

 

Stannis followed Robert’s indication, so he saw her playing with Myrcella and for the first time he realized who his daughter was: a child.

Nothing more, nothing less.

He also noticed that her face was finally clean from the grayscale and that she didn’t have any scar. Neither did Myrcella have the distinctive mark of every person in that place. Both of the girls still had their innocent beauty to show to the others who the good guys were among all that human rubbish

Whoever was in charge of that place, sometimes managed to be fair.

Shireen, as if she felt observed, looked up and called her father.

She sounded surprised, rather than angry.

“Shireen…” Words stuck in his throat “Shireen, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not angry father. Not anymore.” She answered with a smile and, seeing his father’s tears, added: “Here everything bad you did is cancelled.”

Stannis couldn’t help smiling after that little lie.

Nothing was cancelled and Renly had been the perfect evidence.

“I’ve been a terrible father, a terrible person. I couldn’t choose my priorities. You deserved so much better, Shireen.”

“Father…”

“I’ll never find peace again. Not even in the afterlife. I hoped death would give me the chance to forgive and fix my mistakes, but it’s not going to happen. Why would the Gods be fair to someone who wasn’t?”

“We can try to find peace. We can start again, if you want to.”

Tears were about to fall on his cheeks and for the first time he felt unarmed in front of his daughter’s goodness.

For once, Stannis Baratheon cried.

He cried all the tears he had been holding back for a lifetime.


	10. Memories

**Memories**

With Ramsay Bolton, the Afterworld was as bad as he had been in life.

Neither visible scars, as the dogs had tortured him to an extent that this attribution was literally impossible, nor stupid signs like Oberyn’s, because they thought it would be useless for such a despicable person.

On the other hand, his memory had been completely wiped out.

He couldn’t even remember himself, who he had been or what he had done, the terrible actions that had made him one of the most dangerous and feared men of Westeros.

Reset.

Undo.

All gone.

Since he couldn’t even recall his name, consequently every trace of evil and malice had been erased from his eyes, which pointed out that Ramsay Bolton wasn’t born sadistic, but he had turned into one.

As a bastard born, he had tried so hard to be noticed by his father, the notorious Lord Bolton, that he had eventually chosen the worst way possible.

He had chosen violence.

How could Roose not notice him if his “accomplishments” were extremely well-known throughout Riverlands and beyond?

It was just a plan to satisfy his ego, his need for attention, but the problem rose up when Ramsay found out how much he enjoyed violence, inflicting pain to others: skinning an enemy aroused him as well as having sex with one of his whores. However, now he couldn’t remember anything, either causes or consequences.

Not even self-consciousness was left.

Only terrified gazes or people who showed him a disdain he didn’t manage to understand.

He couldn’t know.

 

Reset.

Undo.

All gone.

Memories completely erased, the past in his head had neither present nor future, and thereby the hating crowd was the only evidence he owned of a life spent hurting other people.

Ramsay crouched down, pressing his legs to his chest and hoping to disappear, becoming invisible to escape from that situation, whose didn’t understand the irony: the executioner who wanted to get away from the victims.

Those in charge had a smooth sense of humor.

 

Among the crowd, Ramsay noticed a man, or maybe he was just a boy who had grown up too fast, with the vessel of a grey wolf on the chest. He was heading straight towards him, staring at him with a rage that he couldn’t believe possible to feel. Nevertheless, Ramsay was like a newborn, he was seeing everything for the first time, so it doesn't actually count.

“Bloody bastard!” Screamed the boy, taking him down. He violently beat him, without Ramsay trying to defend himself, until a male voice stopped him.

“Robb! That’s enough! You can’t kill him again!”

“He deserves this pain. He needs to know what our family felt because of him, father!” Answered the boy “Sansa, Rickon, Winterfell, not to mention death and destruction he brought everywhere he went. It’s not fair that he’s expiating his sins with us, not when he’s been such a worm in life.”

Robb’s hands were still around Ramsay’s neck, who couldn’t understand why the boy was talking like that.

However, he had stopped trying to recollect his memory. It was pointless.

“The Young Wolf is right! Go to the Seven Hells, bastard!”

“Hells for Bolton's bastard!”

A choir of voices started shouting and Ramsay couldn’t help crying.

He cried because he didn’t understand what was going on.

He cried because that non-existent consciousness weighed more than ever, like an invisible rock on his back.

Robb Stark stared at him, but he wasn’t able to stop the tears from falling.

“Are you crying?” Asked, surprised, the Young Wolf.

“Who are you?” Screamed Ramsay “Who are those people? What did I do to you for being hated me so much?”

“The bastard doesn’t’ remember?” Said someone in the crowd.

“Maybe he’s just pretending!” Answered somebody else.

Then a voice rose up.

It was Stannis Baratheon.

“Send him to his Gods. They will chose whether he deserves the possibility of redemption or eternal damnation, as well as  it happened to Walder Frey or the Mad King.”

Probably it was the best idea anyone had under that circumstance.

Robb Stark reluctantly accepted Stannis’ idea and said: “Get up bastard, you’re about to be on trial.”

 

Stannis Baratheon, who didn’t forgive him and never would, brought Ramsay to the Gods, the only ones capable of sorting out the situation impartially.

“You have to face your actions on your own.”

“What if I had forgotten?”

“Your Gods will make you remember.”

 

Stannis suddenly left and as soon as he was alone, Ramsay Bolton started seeing everything he did in the past.

Tortures, aggressions, rapes, chasings with the dogs.

He lived again every single actions, so the Gods turned out to be particularly cruel in letting him know that Ramsay Snow didn’t deserve redemption.

 

Reset.

Undo.

Now he was gone, as well. Like his memories.

 


	11. Directions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renly watches Cersei burning up Kingslanding and with it the only person he has ever loved, but Ygritte will help him see the bright side of what happened.

**Directions**

 

The Tyrells arrived in the Afterworld in the same way they left ours: suddenly and together.

Margaery held tight to her brother, as if she wanted to erase all his pain, past and present, just with her touch.

“It’s all over, Loras.” She whispered, leaning her head towards him “Nobody will hurt us anymore.”

She was trying to reassure herself, as well, because there was no one who could do it for her.

“Where are we?” He asked her, waking up from the state of panic and terror.

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

“What’s the last thing you recall?”

Margaery made an incredible effort to answer to the question. She tried to pull the pieces of her memories together, as she used to do with her father when they played that game, back in Highgarden.

“Start from the edges.” He always said “It’s the evident part.”

And so she did.

Starting from the edges.

 

“The trial was about to start.” She exclaimed “Everybody was in Baelor’s Temple, but Cersei and Tommen were missing and this would have raised suspects. However, a Sparrow cannot understand how a Lioness thinks.”

“Then they cut my forehead.” Added Loras, pointing at his scar, still burning from pain.

“Right, the sign of the Faith. Eventually there was the green light.”

Margaery tried to step forward, but her memory didn’t help her.

Everything stopped with the green light.

“We’re dead, aren’t we, Marge?” Asked the boy.

“If we’re dead, what’s this place? Why aren’t we just dead? Moreover, are we alone or there’s somebody else?”

Loras stood up and grabbed his sister’s hands, now that he seemed to think lucidly and clearly.

“We should move to figure out where we are and who else is here.”

The Tyrells started walking, following imaginary directions, since that place was so uniform that the concept itself of direction seemed to have been abolished.

 

“I swear I’ll kill her. I’ll kill that bitch!” Shouted Renly when he saw the green flames surrounding entire neighborhoods of Kingslanding. In that moment, he decided that Cersei Lannister deserved to die.

“There’s no point in screaming and you know it.” Said Ygritte, as calm as she had never been in life.

“Shut up, Ygritte! Don’t talk to me! You have no idea…”

“Sure, you’re the only one who has seen his beloved dying.” She interrupted him “You’re the only one who suffered such a great injustice! I mean, look at the Starks: it doesn’t seem to me that Ned threatened to murder Ramsay Bolton when he used Rickon as a target for his arrows.”

“Well, but you can’t say that the rest of that family is not vindictive…”

“I know, but screaming is still pointless!” Ygritte tried to state her point “Actions matter and we can’t do anything from up here, it’s the first thing you taught me when I came. Don’t let this madness possess you as well.”

Afterwards Renly burst into tears.

He couldn’t help it anymore.

“They deserved better, Ygritte!” He cried.

“Don’t we all?” She replied, then she added “Come here…”

Ygritte hugged Renly, trying to make him feel better even though she knew it would be hard.

“Do you want me to help you look for them?” She demanded.

Lost in desperation, the Young Baratheon had not thought about the only positive consequence of watching dying the only person he had ever loved.

“I like how it sounds, you wanting to help me.” He answered, walking towards an indefinite direction.

Eventually, in the Afterlife they had learnt that sharing the pain makes it more bearable.

 

Loras and Margaery, Renly and Ygritte, they had all lost the conception of time while they were walking in that place that always looked the same, so maybe the Gods decided to let them meet each other in order to stop their endless wandering.

It happened suddenly, as well as the Tyrells’ arrival in the Afterworld.

“Look at them, they’re newbies!” Exclaimed Ygritte “I always recognize noble newbies.”

Renly carefully stared at them: those blond curls, sad green eyes of a person who lost everything, from joy to innocence, that body that he had known too well.

It was Loras.

It must have been Loras.

“It’s him.” Said Renly.

“Are you sure?”

“I would recognize him in a throng.”

Ygritte kept on staring at them and added:

“I know I shouldn’t say so, but I’m jealous because you had the chance to _know well_ both of them…”

“I know I shouldn’t say so, but I’m almost proud of you because you learnt a proper language.” He laughed and said “Do you want to come with me?”

“Don’t worry, I know my spot.”

“Just because we’re nobles?”

“No, you idiot, I don’t want to be the third between you two and if you wait any longer, he may go away.”

“I’ve waited enough.”

Margaery was the first to spot Renly in the crowd, who was anxiously coming towards them.

She knew that he was looking for her brother, but she was fine with it. However, she didn’t say anything to him to avoid spoiling the surprise.

She wanted him to be happy again.

“Knight of Flowers?” Whispered Renly when he was close enough for Loras to hear him. “Would you think of me as selfish if I said that I’m extremely glad to see you again?”

In that moment Loras smiled for the first time after a long, too long, time.

“I would say that I rather stay here than being alive in a hellish world.”

He finally turned to his lover.

“I’ve missed you to death. Again.” Replied the young Baratheon, gently touching his cheek.

“I’ve missed you too, every single day. There is no life in which I could forget you, no matter how hard I try.”

 

Then, in the middle of the crowd, in a uniform place, they hugged so that they knew.

They had finally found their own direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the last one shot, hope you liked it.  
> Anyway, this was an experiment and I'm really happy about it because it turned out to be better than expected, so probably I will translate and post other One Shots about Arrow and The 100 in the future.  
> Thank you for having read it!  
> xoxo  
> A_GleekOfHouseStark


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